Just Can't Hate Him
by Lodovico
Summary: A Blood Elf warlock sneaks into Ebon Hold to attempt to meet up in 'secret' with a Blood Elf Death Knight that she "hates", yet feels so drawn to him. As she tries to meet up with him, unexpected things go on. One shot!


A little note before I go on! Blood Elves and all other Warcraft related things belong to Blizzard. The character, Visarian belongs to Mitchell James Mooney, and Mashka belongs to me! Now.. onto this!

* * *

"Damn....Damn! Where /is/ he?" muttered an irritated voice , belonging to a pair of feminine vocal cords. Pacing back and forth in the gaping entrance in the Ebon Hold, the elegant eared elf continued the jittery task of rambling to herself.

Alas, this elf -- Mashka -- looked as if she had much to worry about, more than the average woman, at least.

A thin, wirey form was her main give-away, and her thin limbs were testament to the fact that she couldn't throw a punch to save her life. Gentle and swift, somewhat speedy and sure for a warlock. Her outfit was composed of fine, stitched cloth, and a simple stilleto dagger hung from the right side of her belt. Her hands were laced behind her back as she paced, occasionally sending a green gaze up at the bone spikes that hung above the dark tinted entrace, only to give a soft sigh as the woman continued her bustle.

"Would you stop that? You're gonna wear a hole in the stone..."

Mashka blinked.

Turning in a heel, she exhaled sharply in relief, crossing her arms. "Finally! Where have you /been/? I swear someone was about to come by any second."

Tall. Pale skinned. Lean, mean, fighting machine.

Dressed in the normal garb of the Ebon Hold patrollers, his elven ears slightly drooped, and a lazy look befell this ponytailed Blood Elf death knight. Like his bretheren, he had a rather strong build, though not completely bulky. His torso was solid, though his body overall held a slightly thinner shape. White hair cascaded down his back and shoulders. One hand gripped a large sledgehammer, which while resting on his shoulder, had ground a neat little indention into his pauldron overtime.

Visarian came to a stop just near the warlock, who kept her arms folded in an almost haughty manner. He lifted the hammer from his shoulder, placing it carefully on the ground with a grunt.

"I swear... You're the most pathetic thing I've ever known." Visa grinned, his voice dark and cold, echoing somewhat throughout the stone walls of the hold.

Mashka, appalled, uncrossed her arms with a gasp. "Hey! Don't say stuff like that, it actually sounded like you /meant/ it that time!" She grumbled.

Visa blinked. Heaving a low chuckle, he reached out and boldly grabbed the female by the wrist, dragging her toward himself, where he wrapped an arm around her waist -- A task he'd only perfected, meaning without causing some sort of bodily harm. Gasping in horror, Mashka squirmed rampantly, her face flaring a bright red, hair of a light brown clashing angrily with it.

"L-Let go! Not /here/, Visa! Someone will see!" She whined softly.

Visarian gave a roll of his eyes, moving to their right, to a small gathering of rocks. There, he placed the warlock, and as a puppeteer might for a puppet, he moved Mashka's arms easily above her head and locked her wrists there.

Much to Mashka's horror.

"You were saying?" Visa rumbled, cold blue eyes trailing down Mashka's skinny, delicious form he'd come to know so well over these past few months.

"N-No! We can't, there's too much at stake! What's the point of /meeting/ in secret if you aren't going to /keep/ it secret?!" She hissed softly, frowning indignantly up at the male elf.

"Can't what...?" He grinned broadly, pinning the warlock against the cold stone still, keeping her wrists locked in place. "Why not, for that matter? Afraid I'll be reported to me superior...? Fuck him." The otherwise lack-for-words death knight growled. Mashka scowled at him, though didn't really squirm anymore. She stood there, watching Visa's hand carefully as it removed her weapon, and pulled her shirt out of its tucked position, the hand making its way beneath said shirt to promptly fondle the warlock's tender breast.

"Nnh! Wait, Visa.." Mashka gasped at the touch. "Wait, wait wait.. Wait wait, wait, wait.. Just wait..." Mashka muttered repetatively.

Her pleading fell on deaf ears.

Visa continued his assault on the tender, pink, and now erect bits of flesh he prized so much, lowering his head to start in on rough kissed and rough nips to the skin of Mashka's neck that wasn't covered with the sewn cloth.

"I said wait, damnit!" Mashka snapped, her voice cracking slightly as it was raised. With her voice, a foot shot up, directly between Visa's legs.

...CLANG.

Mashka's eyes widened, and she bit on her lower lip to stifle her screech, drawing her leg up. Her damned eyes watered! It wasn't what she planned, though it /did/ get Visa to back off somewhat. The man lifted his head from his attacking bites and kisses, his hand sliding down to rest on Mashka's hip.

"No go, missy... I remember that trick from /last/ time. And I didn't like it very much either." He smirked, sparing a hand to reach down and knock on the protective metal plate. Mashka glared at Visa, muttering something through clenched teeth as she waited the throbbing pain to cease in her foot. Goddamn death knights... resourceful.

"Somewhere /else/!" Mashka hissed at Visa.

Pause..

Pause...

Pause....

Ding!

Visa caught on. A broad grin stretched across his face, and he leaned back close in to Mashka, placing his forehead against hers.

"...I get it."

"...Get what?" Mashka blinked.

"Oh, no no... I get it, missy."

"Get /what/? I don't get it..."

"You..."

"Me."

"...Like it when people watch."

"WHAT?!"

Mashka recoiled, practically caved right into herself as she heard her voice echo through the empty hall, and spied a lantern flicker somewhere on the upper level.

Safe to say, she was pretty much horrified.

"What do you /mean/?! Of course I don't! I hate it! It's embarassing! Why would you even sugg--"

...Grrriiiiinnn.

Mashka GAAAAASPED, her eyes widening even more, if possible, and she now broke into an almost violent fit of struggling.

"NO. No, no! Don't you dare! Not here! Anywhere but here! I won't LET you, you ass! You... fuckin'... cold, AUGH! Let go!"

Visa pulled back as Mashka started into her spastic fit, grunting, reaching a hand out to try and stop the flailing legs from taking his head right off.

"Would you... Just... hold--"

Crack!

Mashka's foot collided with Visa's jaw, and hard enough to make his head tilt backward. Mashka's legs dropped back down tot he ground after that, a fierce glare shooting through Visa's skull from the feisty little warlock.

"I warned you! I did, I warned you! Now let me /go/. I'm getting out of here, before you get anything /else/ in that skull of yours."

No reply.

Mashka blinked, pausing for a moment.

"...Visa?"

...

"Viiiiiisaaaaa?" Mashka inquired again, this time with a more cautious voice.

A grunt. A tightening of his hand around the warlock's wrists.

"...Oh SHIT. UH -- Visa? Buddy? That was an accident! You know that, right? I /told/ you to let me go.. Visa? Visarian? You there?"

Dropping his hiead forward, Visarian brought a hand to move his jaw around a bit, and with a sickening crack, he moved it back to place. A now bright glowing blue gaze fell on Mashka, the glowing in his eyes looking as if he were angry.

"Oh.. My light...VISA. I didn't mean it! C'mon!" She pleaded, falling into another flight-over-fight syndrome.

Visa gave a strong grunt, lowering his head to crush his lips forcefully into Mashka's, neverminding the feeling of his cold breath mixing with warm breath, and the startled whimper of the pinned woman in front of him. He switched hands, holding Mashka's wrists with his left rather than his right hand, his other shooting down to grasp Mashka's trousers, panties and all, and he roughly yanked them down to Mashka's ankles in one swift motion.

"Mmrphm mphp! Mrph!" Mashka would oppose vocally to this ordeal, though that somewhat glistening mound of hers so noticed, provided an otherwise call. Finally lifting the warlock from the stone, it was just brief. Mashka found herself being turned around, and finally pinned against the wall, a large arm pressed to her back to keep her pinned now. The clashing of plate and rustling of leathers could only mean one thing.

Someone else was about to join the party.

Peering over her shoulder, Mashka gave an awkward chuckle, trying to make light of the situation, despite her shame burning brightly on her face.

"V-Visa.. C'mon now.. Someone's g-gonna come by any minute! You'll be booted from the ranks! I'll be... oh, shit, I don't know what I'll be, but it won't be GOOD." She whined.

"Fuck that." Visarian muttered in a gruff tone, lowering his head just beside Mashka's ears. "I /know/ you, Mash. You say you don't want it, but fuck I KNOW you do." He growled softly, promptly biting into Mashka's shoulder, if only to draw a pained cry from the woman.

"Ffffff---!" Mashka hissed, her blush flaring. "Just not here, god damn it all! You oa--- OHH-- GNNH." Mashka hissed once more and strained, as a finger was thrust into her. "Ha!" She panted, automatically tightening around that invading finger, glaring at Visa. 'That's NOT fair, you ass! Jj-- Unngh!" She interrupted herself again, giving into a brief moan as that very finger was sliding in and out of her.

It was all too clear what was going to happen, by now, just as it was clear what poor little Mashka's problem was.

Mashka loved to fuck. She loved to BE fucked, more specifically... And more specifically than that, she loving nothing more than Visa's thick cock. But would she admit that aloud? Hell no. Just like she'd never admit that her pain was a real turn on, as much as Visa pissed her /right/ off, she loved that damned guy.

You can't rape the willing, as they say.

But you can't make them admit they're willing, either.

"Dffff... Unghah..." Mashka shuddered in front of the death knight, who gave a dark chuckle at his accomplishment.

"I think you're ready.. I can't wait much longer, anyway." Visa growled lustfully, slipping his coated fingers from the new quite wet entrance of the jittery warlock. Grasping his own member, a few strokes to get himself riled some more, and he began the task of sliding steadily into Mashka.

She... was... In Heaven.

A startled gasp was the first thing the woman gave away. That was just when the head rubbed against her slightly pale ass cheeks. As it went to her wet entrance, and when the head pushed past, she felt herself stretch a bit over the head, /that/ was when the sexy moans began, an entire symphony of them, one note for each half inch Visa made his way in.

"Ff.. Fu-- Uhhn!" Mashka stuttered helplessly, her released hands reaching back to pull herself apart for easy entry. "I ha.. Hate--y-you... Fuck."

"I know you do." Visa snorted, grunting and growling in an almost animalistic manner, rumbling once the head was fully inside. There he paused, to allow Mashka to rest, and make herself accustomed to the fit. Visa wasn't completely heartless, after all. Peering down at the form of the impaled woman, Visa drew his tongue across his lips briefly, chuckling lowly.

"Ready...?" He inquired down at Mashka.

"N...No.."

Gripping Mashka's hips roughly, Visa gave them a brief squeeze, before suddenly thrusting his way inside of the warlock. This alone aroused a slightly pained cry from Mashka, who seemed half collapsed on the rock, clinging to it dearly.

"Unghhnn! I said I /w-wasn't/ ready!" She growled.

Breath was drawing from him again as Visa pulled himself almost fully out, and with a thunderous buck of his hips, he thrust himself back into the woman. This pattern he began was slow at first, with several muttered threats on each others lives during the process. Faster... Faster. Harder! It almost seemed as if the death knight would /break/ the warlock if he went any deeper, Mashka's ass cheeks slapping against Visa's thighs, their grunts and groans harmonizing somewhat in repetition. With all this going on, squelching sounds could be heard as well.

"F-Ff-Fas.. Faster!" Mashka pleaded, gripping her now messy hair tightly, gritting her teeth as her cunt continued to be pounded like never before.

"Ungh! You little bitch, don't /pull/ that with me..." Visa growled back, lifting a hand to slap it across Mashka's right ass cheek with a satisfying crack. Hissing in air through her teeth, Mashka managed to spare a hand, reaching down to rub at her own clitoris while her breasts would bounce about slightly along with Visa's thrusts, her moans speeding up in time and length.

"Gnngh, fuck... You're too god damned tight, Mash.. I can't keep.." Visa warned, digging his nails slightly into Mashka's hips to form more traction for the upcoming finale.

"Agghh! Haa! Ha! So. S-- Close.. V-Visa!" The tone in her voice said it all. They'd heard it many times before. Heaving himself into Mashka for the last few, back-breaking thrusts, as he lodged himself deep within the female, their moans mingled and filled the cavernous-like area with a melodious mix of sexual release. Visa stayed inside Mashka long enough to make sure his somewhat cold seed was inside, and Mashka left quite a nice little gift for the people of tomorrow on the rock she was pinned to. She had literally been dripping wet.

Visa drew himself out, slowly, his thick length drooping. His sticky white seed spilled dribbled out of Mashka's ravaged entrance, and the woman crumpled beneath her own unsupported weight, eyes glazed over with a look of pure, orgasmic pleasure. Visa, too seemed rather affected by this, As he went to pick Mashka up, he found himself simply holding the warlock in his arms for a few moments, chest heaving with another job well... /very/ well done.

Slowly, Mashka moved her green gaze up at Visarian, exhaling sharply.

"Still...H..Hate.."

"I know, dear... Hhnn."


End file.
